


Never a Delorean

by keelywolfe



Series: Sportashorts [8]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Angst, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 04:55:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10326044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: Robbie had made some bad choices in his life and that was a fact. This might be the worst.





	

* * *

Robbie wasn't entirely sure why he was here. 

At some point in his life, mistakes had been made and that was a fact. 

Perhaps if he could have pinpointed the exact moment his life went wrong, the place where he stepped off the path, where he'd zigged where he should have zagged, Robbie could have invented a time machine and gone back to fix it. Found his little Red Riding Hood moment and warned himself of the wolves. 

Or maybe not. At some point, a person needed to own their mistakes and whatever had led him to this, well, Robbie was just going to have to deal with it. 

But the universe was asking a lot of him to sit here and watch a shirtless Sportacus playing volleyball. 

Shirtless and in shorts, all tan skin gleaming with sweat and sunscreen, and Sportacus was still wearing that stupid hat. It was either a punishment from the universe for past sins or some sort of torturous reward, Robbie wasn't sure which. Probably both because that was the way the world worked for him. 

It was all right. As punishments went, Robbie wouldn't mind dreaming about this one every once in a while. 

The rest of the Lazytown gang, as Robbie had mentally dubbed them, were out there as well, children and adults, playing and laughing, and paying him no attention at all, just as Robbie liked it. Everyone, that was, but Pinkie and Robbie was already bracing himself for the upcoming storm. 

Somehow in the past few years, Robbie had managed to drift from the town villain to merely eccentric. That was fine by him; he hadn't really been trying to be the local bad guy. He just liked his peace and quiet, thank you. 

Stephanie, on the other hand, was a different story. He still remembered the day a couple years past when she'd come banging on his hatch door, somehow both pleading for and demanding his help, please, Robbie, no one else in town can sew. He'd helped her with a dance costume, once. Just one time and somehow that had formed a bond between them, or at least Pinkie seemed to think so and Robbie had gotten dragged along, kicking and screaming, for the ride. 

In the end, he'd grudgingly accepted it. Over the years, they'd shared hair tips, makeup, costume ideas. He'd helped her learn dance routines. Honestly, his best friend was all of fifteen; it was the very definition of pathetic. Robbie didn't really care. Normal had never really been his thing. That lacking of normal had led to this, sitting on a bench at the beach, still in his everyday clothes, watching people he tolerated playing volleyball. 

Such was life. 

As expected, Pinkie broke away from game, her hair bouncing as she dashed over to him and plunked down on the bench Robbie had commandeered. 

"You came!" she said, breathlessly. 

"I was invited," Robbie said wryly and he had been. Sportacus had invited the entire town to the beach for the first nice day of the year and being eccentric meant Robbie could choose to go or not. He wasn't sure what it said about him that he'd chosen to come; probably that he was a glutton for punishment. 

Say what you would about teenagers, Pinkie was a shrewd one of their kind. She gave Robbie a narrow look, glanced out at the players and then back to Robbie. If he'd thought about it, Robbie would have put his attention somewhere else for the duration of Stephanie's laser gaze, but, well, Sportacus was spiking the volleyball and fairly gleaming in the sunlight. Tearing his eyes away from that might have caused an actual injury. 

"You really like him, don't you?" It was phrased like a question but it wasn't one. Ah, blunt as always. Robbie had learned that Pinkie was not one for subtle. He usually appreciated her tendency to get straight to the point. Today was an exception to that rule.

"Everyone really likes him," Robbie said dryly, "It spreads, like a fungus or an infection. You wake up one morning and suddenly, you're craving apples on your pancakes, you get a bottle of water instead of a soda, and you have the urge to jog a mile or two at dawn."

Stephanie laughed, softly, "It took longer for the infection to hit you." She gave him a sly nudge with her elbow.

"Yeah, well, I thought I'd built up an immunity to that sort of thing." A past life of poor choices had been an excellent incentive against anything new. Only Robbie had proven time and again that he was always ready to make new mistakes. Sportacus really had managed to work his way in through Robbie's cracks without even trying, "Not an infection or a fungus," Robbie murmured. "More like ivy, finding weak places to put their roots."

"Ugh," Stephanie made a face. "You have it bad. Why don’t you just tell him and get it over with."

"Because…" Robbie trailed off. From this distance he couldn't hear Sportacus laughing but he could see it. He didn't need to hear it, he knew exactly what it sounded like, as sweet and light as bells and Robbie was not a good person, he'd never been a good person, never pretended to be. _Because he deserves so much more than I could ever give him._ "Because none of your business," Robbie said shortly. "And I'll thank you to keep your little pink nose out of it."

"I would never—" Stephanie began, a little hotly, but she trailed off as Sportacus chose that moment to back flip over to them. Really, he was a complete and utter show-off and Robbie would be happy to watch it for just about ever.

"Come on, you two, you can play too!" Sportacus was laughing and had both of them by the hand. It was a tossup as to whether he was trying to get them into the game physically or with the pure energy of his insistence. Robbie could smell coconut lotion and sunshine coming off him, had to briefly close his eyes against it.

"All right, all right," Stephanie giggled. "I'm coming."

Robbie withdrew his hand from Sportacus's light grip with a chilly sniff. "Leaving aside the fact that I am not dressed for volleyball—"

"Go change!" Sportacus urged. "Go, go!"

"Leaving that aside," Robbie continued, louder, "I'll leave the jumping around in the sand to you and the brats."

He completely ignored the way Sportacus cheer faltered, just a quick flash of disappointment, before he rallied and turned his attention back to Stephanie. "Come on, Stephanie; come be a brat with me and the others."

There was a dig in there, subtle as it was, and Robbie ignored it. He dropped his eyes as though studying his nail polish and never mind that Sportacus bare legs, so rare to see, were directly in his line of vision. 

"I'll be right there," Stephanie assured him. 

Sportacus cast a last look at Robbie and this one he couldn't quite decipher, frustration, maybe, irritation, he didn't know and Sportacus wasn't likely to tell. He was already gone, flipping his way back into the game.

"I wouldn't say anything," Stephanie said, low, "You know better. But I still think you should tell him. What do you have to lose?"

_Everything._ "Let me repeat, in case you missed it. It's none of your business, Pinkie, and I wasn't sitting here alone because I was waiting for your opinion on it."

She gave her hair a toss and stood. "Suit yourself." She took two steps, hesitated, and Robbie blinked as she turned back. He stiffened when she hugged him, his hands going white-knuckled in his own lap. She kissed his temple and whispered, "Robbie, just think, all of your tomorrows could start here."

Gently, he pushed her away. "You're too young to spout cryptic messages, child. Go play." She did, joining back in and her friends cheered. 

Robbie sat beneath that garish umbrella and watched the game. Even he could see that most of the players were terrible at it but Sportacus was never bothered by that, always yelling encouragement to everyone and the game was as much laughter as it was hitting the ball. He didn't look Robbie's way again. 

That was all right, that was fine. It was exactly what Robbie wanted and if it left him feeling hollow, those ivy tendrils digging into tender, aching places, well. He'd made his mistakes and there was no time machine to carry him back, no way to shove his past self back on to the path and away from the wolves.

He'd used up all his tomorrows a long time ago. He'd be damned if he'd do the same to Sportacus. 

-finis-


End file.
